


A Night in The Rain

by whatabeautifulmess



Series: Rain by the Sea [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 02:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatabeautifulmess/pseuds/whatabeautifulmess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He sees her push open the door of the shop, and he's surprised. She's never come here before. But she's here, now, searching for something, someone." Katie/George drabble series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

_Promise:_

He sees her push open the door of the shop, and he's surprised. She's never come here before. But she's here, now, searching the room for something, someone. Him? He doesn't dare think it might be true.

Then she catches sight of him, eyes locking on his face, so thin and worn now, when a few months before it had been smiling and full of joy.

"Oh Merlin," he hears her whisper. "Why? I can't deal with this now..."

A white-hot knife stabs at his heart, but he barely feels it. Too many people, important people, have left him for another one to make much difference. But to his surprise, she stays.

"Oh George," she murmurs, cupping his face in her hand, "it'll be OK. I promise."

::::

_Butterbeer:_

She pulls him out to the back of the shop, her arm around his waist, supporting him. They sit down in silence, opposite each other at the grimy wooden table, and she pulls out two bottles of butterbeer from her bag. He takes the one she offers him, glad to have something to hold, to distract him from the strangely light feeling in his stomach. He doesn't quite recognise it, though he feels sure he's felt like this before. Long ago. When Fred-

No. Don't think about that, it'll only hurt more. Despite his efforts, though, he feels the carefully-contructed wall he's built up crumbling away, and wonders if it will ever hurt any less.

::::

_Distractions:_

She stares hard at him, seeming to be on the verge of saying something, but a small tabby kitten dashes across the room, jumping onto the table, before she has a chance. He picks the mini-cat up (don't think of her like that, that's what _he_ always called her) and buries his face in her fur, hiding from whatever Katie is going to say. Probably more rubbish about how she understood exactly how he was feeling, but that he needed to 'get a grip' and 'move on with his life'. He waits, face still buried in Betty's fur.

"George, I understand how you feel."

He snorts. So predictable.

Then she catches him off-guard.

"I loved him too, once."

::::

_Surprise:_

She smiles grimly at his shocked expression. "He didn't tell you? No, off course he wouldn't have. I never even told him, not properly. I think he knew, though."

He stares at her, willing to lose himself in this enchanting fantasy, where there was something his twin had never told him. She blushes slowly under his gaze, her cheeks now the same shade of red as his socks.

"But...Angelina?" he manages to choke out. It's like his throat has closed up, rendering speech impossible.

"She's why I never told him," she says, reaching across to stroke Betty now that he has loosened his hold on her. "They were so obviously in love, and I didn't want to ruin that. I got over it." She shrugs and falls silent; she's said her piece.

"And...now?"

She smiles, properly now, and he notices how pretty she is when she's not covered in mud from Quidditch practice.

"Oh, there's someone else, someone...much closer to home."

::::

_Battlefield:_

He looks at her, properly looks at her, for what feels like the first time. She never really made much of an impact on him whilst they were at school. She stares back, and the sad, wistful expression she wears is a perfect reflection of his own.

They talk for a long time, longer than he remembers speaking since that final battle. They talk about Fred a lot, and he feels a weight slip away from him, out of his stomach, and roll away. He feels a little bit lighter, and it feel so good that he jumps up and pulls her into a spontaneous hug.

She laughs delightedly, and for a moment she sounds so much like his twin that he tries to pull away, the heavy stone coming back heavier than before. She doesn't let him, though, and instead holds him even closer.

"It's not a crime to feel happy, George. Fred wouldn't want you to hide away for ever. Don't disappoint him."

He knows, deep down, that she's right, and so he doesn't break their hug, but rather marvels in the softness of her skin beneath his finger tips.

What was happening? He doesn't understand, but decides not to try to when he feels the flutter of butterflies low in his gut. Fred had always said that love - or even attraction - shouldn't be a battle, especially with yourself.

::::

_Thunderstorm:_

The heavens suddenly open, fat droplets of rain thudding onto the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley. She jumps up and stares out of the window at the sudden, unceasing downpour, and groans.

"I'm going to get soaked, I forgot my umbrella!" She heads for the door, saying that she should go now, before it gets any worse. The words are scarcely out of her mouth when there is a ferocious clap of thunder and the rain plummets down even harder.

She still seems determined to leave, so he clamps a hand around her arm. "No. Stay here tonight, there's enough room. You can't go home in that."

She hesitates, but eventually relents. He leads her upstairs to the spare room, the blankets of the unmade bed draped across the floor.

"Sorry about the mess," he mutters, hanging his head. "It...hasn't been used in a while." He doesn't say, "since Fred died", he can't, but she nods like she understands.

"Thank you," she whispers, hugging him again.

::::

_Permission:_

He's not sure why, but he stands in the doorway of Fred's room that night, watching her sleep. It calms him, puts him at ease, to see her steady breaths, in, out, in, out. He smiles as he watches her sleep, and sees that she, too, is smiling as she fidgets in her sleep, turning over to face him. He hopes she's having a happy dream.

He knows it's wrong, what he's thinking. She was in love with Fred! But he also knows Fred never loved her, only Angelina. That makes him feel a little bit better about his supposedly "chivalrous" behaviour - he had acted on purely selfish motives.

"What do you think, Fred?" he whispers to the ceiling. "Is it OK?"

He feels rather than hears the answer from his never-forgotten brother: "Go for it, Georgie."


	2. Chapter Two

_Conversation:_

She wakes up a little while later, bleary-eyed and still half asleep, and sees him standing there. She pushes the quilt back and it falls to the floor with a dull thump, but she doesn't bother to pick it up again. There's a long silence as she looks at him, nervously patting at her hair to make it lie flat.

It takes her a while, but eventually she speaks. "W-what are you doing here? Can't you sleep?" she says, stifling a yawn.

"No, I'm fine. Just talking to my brother."

She looks at him sharply, then around the room, as if expecting hordes of red-haired men to appear from thin air. He pokes a finger up to the ceiling then, and she understands, nodding as she leaves the room and goes to make her way downstairs. "I'll leave you two to it, then," she says, foot on the first step, as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. "Just don't say anything bad about me!"

"Oh, we won't say anything _bad_ , will we Fred?"

::::

_Advice:_

He's still there when she comes back up the stairs, carrying a glass of water. She stops in the doorway, sipping from the glass as she leans against the frame like he had earlier. It makes him laugh, just a little, to notice the odd role reversal this situation had brought about. She laughs too, though she looks confused at his sudden mirth, and her giggles remind him of birdsong, sweet and melodious.

"Go on George; you're nearly there," a voice says, and George smiles to hear his brother's voice.

::::

_Tangled:_

She looks at him curiously, wondering why he is still sat there, waiting for her. He stares back and brings his knees up to his chest, extracting them from the tangled quilt still lying on the floor. Despite how much everything has changed, he suddenly feels lonely, and cold, like a icy breeze has blown through the room, making his skin erupt in goosebumps and his head feel heavy and woollen.

She crosses the room quickly, putting her arms around him once more, and he feels the sudden chill recede slightly in the face of human companionship.

"You're not alone anymore, George. I know he's up there, looking out for you." He smiles at her words: she doesn't know how true they are. "He's here for you - we both are."

::::

_Breathless:_

He stares at her for a moment, his heart leaping. Did she mean what he thought she meant? No, it was impossible.

"Not completely," a laughing voice whispers from somewhere not of this earth.

"Shut it, Fred," he mutters under his breath. Katie's head shoots up, curious to know what he was saying. He shakes his head, indicating that it's not important. She rolls her eyes and goes to stand next to the window, throwing it open and looking out to the street below. The sun is just rising, bathing Diagon Alley in a bright pinkish light.

She hangs her head out of the window, taking deep breaths of fresh, morning air, and the sight of her stretched on tiptoe, the morning light gilding her whole body, takes his breath away.

He's not quite sure what prompted him to move, but he finds himself next to her, looking out over the buildings around them, his hand resting on her shoulder. He finds he likes it, being close to someone again; and he likes it even more when she kisses his cheek before she leaves to get dressed, bundling up her clothes in her arms.

::::

_Breakfast:_

He races downstairs whilst she's in the bathroom, feeling lighter and happier than he has in weeks. It leaves him energised and awake, though he hasn't slept. He dashes into the kitchen, then screeches to a halt at the mess. He realises that he's let things slip since Fred's death, and rushes to clean up a little before she comes downstairs as well. He bundles glasses into the sink, attempts to clean some of the dirt from the table with his wand, and lays the just-delivered copy of the Daily Prophet on the table, neatly folded, next to a glass of orange juice and a hurriedly conjured vase of flowers. He throws the empty carton of juice in the bin just as Katie appears at the bottom of the stairs.

"Wow," she says, looking around the room. He nervously flattens his hair before ruffling it again. "This is...cleaner." He looks anxious, but she's smiling, and he relaxes, smiling as well.

"Yeah," he says, exhaling loudly. "I thought it was about time I cleaned up a bit. Now, what would you like for breakfast?"


	3. Chapter Three

_Smashed:_

After a breakfast of toast and eggs, she insists on washing up. He feebly protests, but she simply piles the plates into her arms, puts them in the sink and pulls out her wand to start to clean them.

He, too, pulls out his wand, drying the plates as she finishes washing them, and they work in silence together for a while.

But as she passes the final plate to him, her fingers brush his skin and the plate crashes to the floor.

She flushes scarlet and jerks her hand away, hurriedly bending to repair the broken shards of china. He grins at her reaction but moves away, levitating the plates back into the cupboard as she straightens, still blushing an angry shade of red.

::::

_Inkling:_

She bustles around, putting away the newly-repaired plate and resolutely looking anywhere but at him.

He's still smiling, but the expression is softer now. He thinks he knows what she's thinking, thinks he understands her reaction, and he doesn't want to startle her.

He moves towards her, careful to be noisy, clattering against the table. he lays a gentle hand on her shoulder and feels her flinch as she turns towards him.

"Thank you, so much, for yesterday. You're really special, _really_ special. I just never realised how special until a few hours ago."

She blushes again and shrugs non-commitally, trying to jerk her shoulder from his grasp; he just grips her tighter, pulling her towards him.

::::

_Kiss:_

She doesn't mean to flinch when he touched her, but she does anyway - she can't seem to help it, her nerves are raw and every cell is on the alert. She feels his grasp tighten and can't move away from him even if she had wanted to.

And then he's kissing her, kissing her kissing her kissing her like she's never been kissed before, soft and forceful and caring and passionate all at once. She feels her knees go weak and he has to hold her closer to stop her falling. She doesn't mind - it just means she has an excuse to slip her hands around his neck and tangle her fingers in his hair, marveling at its softness. She doesn't want to ever stop kissing him, and just kisses him harder when he threatens to pull away.

::::

_Mission Accomplished:_

Before he knows what he's doing, he's kissing her, kissing her kissing her kissing her like he can't remember kissing anyone ever before. She's more important to him than anyone else in the world at this moment in time, and he wishes he could stop its flow so this moment never has to end. When he tries to pull back, give her time to think, she just pulls him to her again, and he smiles against her mouth. Thoughts are running pell-mell through his mind, none leaving an imprint there except one: _I love her. I want to marry her._

In his mind, he sees Fred grin. "Mission accomplished," he mouths at his twin, but smiles broader when he realises that George is otherwise occupied.


End file.
